Tag Archives: Travel

Château of Versailles and the beginning’s of something

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Walking through the hundreds of rooms at Château of Versailles, I couldn’t help but notice, the old, stuffy smell and the sound of squeaky, footsteps upon the ancient floors. So, I made a sound video and took close up shots of the wallpapers and other surfaces.

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I mainly had a fascination with the “over the top” décor, decorative surfaces and patterns.

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Below the surfaces of this show of power and extravagance, was a history of passion, debauchery, sex, treachery, brutality, corruption, torture and death. I imagined the exotic and beautiful people, the power of the Kings, the abuse of women, Marie Antoinette and the peasants who starved in villages.

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I also was taken back to my childhood, when, I enjoyed being in my own little world creating, away from the real world. My mum used to make gorgeous clothes with beautiful fabrics and trimmings and I was given the leftover’s. I taught myself to make collage’s, wall hangings, to decorate my room from a very young age.

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When I was older, I decorated my bedroom with scarves, scraps of fabric and tacked up old bedspreads, made from cotton and woven fringes. The bedspreads became a wallpaper backdrop for my bed that I made into a couch.

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I made heaps of cushions and would sit for hours reading, Go Set and TV Week, magazines. The pop star posters were stuck onto the other 3 walls and ceiling.

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I have a pile of vintage French fabrics and  papers and have been playing around with a few ideas and may look into having an arts residency, nearby in the future.

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Amour de Paris. Missing Paris Again.

I miss Paris today. I miss the homeliness of Paris …I woke up feeling a longing for the white snow on the rooftops outside my little studio window in the cubicle.

 

 

 

I miss my dark dungeon, with its odour of oldness and mold and even miss the creepy feeling that lashes me when I go there to work on my never- ending arts project.

 

I miss the fresh no- nonsense food, the culture, the artists and especially, the realness of Paris.

I miss not knowing the language and guessing what people are saying.

I miss seeing something new and the ordinary down the streets of Asnieres with my daughter.

I miss the walk to the park with its topiary trees, gardens and boulie men.

I miss the newness of the place plus the old familiar places I like to go to.

I miss not being able to play and sit in the gardens around the corner where Vincent sat and created.

I miss the little art/design ateliers down in Bastille with their windows full of  high design handmade, one- off  pieces of jewellery, glassware, sculpture, furniture and funky home-wares.

I miss knowing that every time I stroll through the Louvre I still, haven’t seen it all and will need to come back.

 

I miss not being able to visit Camille , Manet Doré, Degas, Cézanne, Rodin, Monet , Picasso, Renoir, Rousseau ,Gauguin, Lautrec,Valadon, Bernard,Matisse, Rouault,Brâncuş’, DufyPicabia, Braque, Metzinger , Delaunay, Arp , Chagall, Duchamp, Ernst ,Soutin,e and Masson for the day.

I especially miss the closeness to Modernism, Impressionism, Post-Impressionism, Fauvism, Symbolism , Art Nouveau, Primitivism (art) Modernism, Cubism, Puteaux Group, and my favourite ,Dada, and Surrealism The art squats, street art and local artists with avant guard ideas. I miss my most loved Pompedou gallery.

I miss the trips to Dave’s parents. I even miss,the rattly old one person lift we squeeze into,going up to the apartment. I miss their welcome and sitting at the table eating delectable foods with the now, familiar Eiffel, out the window .

I miss Champs. Montmartre, cemeteries , beautiful old buildings and new places I haven’t seen before.

 

 

I also miss the things I haven’t done, or seen yet, in Paris.

I miss the smells ,textures and sounds when living,in Paris. Even, the nightmare trains I don’t mind anymore.

I miss the nostalgia of Paris. There are triggers in Paris, that send me back to my childhood in Australia. It’s usually only something small that will set this feeling off, like the simplicity of design in the everyday domestic object, or the rawness and feel of a well made cotton dishcloth or tea-towel.The aroma and taste of fresh foods straight from the farms and markets.

I especially get this nostalgia when Dave and Amy come home from the patisserie across the road with the morning baguette or my favorite Frasier cake. All this will send me back to my childhood  in Australia when everything was more authentic, honest and more, homely than it is today.

Paris is just like a comfortable old jumper to me now. I do miss Paris today and my beautiful daughter Amy…

My French- inspired handmade shop Atelierinparis

 

Handmade Trash Books.

I have heaps of  travel catalogs that I hate to throw away so I recycle them into notebooks, journals and artist books .I make each book cover as a separate collage piece – OOAK.

I re-use all my jotting and doodling paper I keep beside the computer so when I get a pile I create a book. In my books you may come across scribbles an idea a thought budgets old exhibition invites artist postcards catalog covers pages botched print- outs advertising materials junk mail magazine cut-outs-stickers wallpaper tags and baguette bags from Paris computer keyboard keys old cheque  butts and more……I wire bound them with my binding machine and sometimes I join them with punched holes with ribbons , wire,cord just whatever is around.

They can be used for doodles and sketching to jot things down ideas thoughts lyrics words travel or artists journal whatever u want.

It’s fun making them,I must make more…